Sweet Sixteen
by Jezrianna2.0
Summary: [Complete]Kim's sixteenth birthday is fast approaching.  Will Ron find the right gift in time?
1. The Gift Crisis

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Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.

Ron Stoppable sat slumped over a table at Bueno Nacho, his chin resting on one hand while he stared blankly out the window and toyed absently with his food. He didn't hear Monique call his name until she shouted it in his ear. "What has gotten in to you Ron?" she demanded as she slid into a chair opposite him.

"Nothing," he said distractedly.

"Like hell," Monique rebuked him. "Something's bugging you, and it must be damn serious." Ron perked up a bit.

"Why do you say that?" he asked irascibly. Monique smiled at him, managing with that simple movement of her lips to convey both amusement and concern.

"Because there's a grande sized chimmerito in front of you and you aren't eating it," she said gently.

Ron heaved a sigh and leaned back in his chair. "It's that obvious, eh?"

"C'mon Ron. My mom says a trouble shared is a trouble halved. What's wrong?"

"It's Kim's sixteenth birthday, and I don't know what to get her," Ron said gloomily. Monique quashed the urge to make a smart-ass remark. Ron was rarely in a funk. That along with the fact that he wasn't eating told, no, screamed, that this was serious.

"What do you normally get her?" Monique asked. She knew perfectly well, of course, because Kim had told her all about Ron's gifts: usually hand made, occasionally purchased, always cheap...er, inexpensive, and delivered with such sincere exuberance that she couldn't help but be touched.

"Oh, cards, toys, gift certificates. I bought her a bracelet once." Ron sighed again.

"And why won't one of those won't do this time?" Monique asked.

"'Cause it's her sixteenth birthday. Sweet sixteen, the birthday of birthdays. Some cheap trinket won't do. I want it to be something special."

"How about flowers?"

Ron scowled. "Flower have three strikes: One, too expensive. Two, too boyfriendy. Three, they've been done." He hissed the last.

"Josh?"

"Mankey," Ron nodded.

"Why is it such a problem?"

"Because...because Kim's my friend, my best friend in the whole world, and I don't have many of those. I want to give her something that shows how - how much that means to me. How much _she_ means to me." Ron hung his head. "And I can't think of anything," he finished despairingly.

Monique pondered. This was a side of Ron she hadn't seen before. She had always seen Ron as a buffoon, and often wondered why Kim put up with him. Now, with sudden insight, she knew. Ron loved Kim. Not in a boyfriendy way (for Ron, at least from Monique's point of view, barely realized Kim was a girl), but not in a brotherly way either. Monique had heard about Platonic love, but always thought it was BS. After all, who could ever completely disregard sex? And sexual attraction? But here Ron was, wanting to do right by his friend on her special day, and despairing because he didn't know how. With a pang of sympathy Monique reached out an covered Ron's hand with her own.

"Well, I can't say you should get her what I did: a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret." Ron blushed, and Monique grinned. "But if you really want an inside track on what Kim wants for her B-day... ask her mom."


	2. Listening In

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Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.

Ron bounded up the walk to the Possible residence and let himself in. Fortunately Kim was busy with an after school project, so he didn't have to worry about her finding out that he'd been here, or why. Well, at least not right away. He intended to speak with Jim and Tim about the importance of keeping one's mouth shut. Ron had learned about that the hard way, and he was prepared to see that Jim and Tim learned the same way...if necessary. He found Kim's younger twin brothers in the family room playing video games.

"Hey Jim, hey Tim," Ron greeted them. "Hey Ron," they called back, not looking up from their game.

"Where's your mom? I need to ask her something."

"She and Dad are in the kitchen, arguing about Kim's stupid birthday party," Jim said disgustedly, eyes never leaving the screen. Now that Jim mentioned it, Ron could hear adult voices talking in...animated tones.

"Thanks for the info," Ron said and slipped out of the room. Jim and Tim didn't seem to notice him leaving, which was fine with him. They might not even remember that he'd been there at all.

Ron paused at the kitchen door to listen. Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible weren't exactly arguing, but they were having an intense discussion.

"Honey," Mr. Dr. Possible said, "I know Kimmy is growing up, and I want her party to be a success, but just her and Josh going out for an after party dinner is too much." Mr. Dr. P paused, as if waiting for his wife to object. When she didn't he plowed on. "I mean, if it was her and Josh and a half dozen other friends, sure. If it was her and Josh and us, sure. But just her and Josh?" Ron could practically hear Mr. Dr. Possible shaking his head.

"Kimmy is too young to be thinking about stuff like that," he said. There was another brief pause. "Well, maybe not too young to be thinking about it, but definitely too young to be doing it!"

"I know it makes you uncomfortable, Dear," Mrs. Dr. Possible rejoined pleadingly, "but she is almost sixteen, and she's not a child any more."

Ron was frozen, his eyes wide with astonishment at what he was hearing. Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible were discussing Kim's SEX life? He shook himself, and forced himself to take a mental step back. Kim had talked about an afternoon party for a few select friends, then taking in a movie and maybe hitting a Japanese steak house afterward. This private dinner with Mankey thing was a new wrinkle. Ok, he'd come into the conversation in the middle, and had no idea what had led Kim's 'rents to this point, or even if sex was what they were really talking about. Plus, Mr. Dr. P was, like many fathers, strangely protective where his daughter's sexuality was concerned. That had always struck Ron as a little weird. "I mean," he had opined to Kim on one occasion, "He lets you risk your life fighting supervillians and stuff, but worries about you riding in a car with a boy alone?"

"Maybe so," Mr. Dr. Possible allowed, "But..."

"Dear, Kim's been alone with Josh before, you know. The only difference between this date and any of the others would be the price of the restaurant," Mrs. Dr. P reasoned calmly. "Besides," she added archly, "What makes you think Kim is still a virgin anyway?"

Ron's face flamed. He could just imagine the look on Mr. Dr. P's face, and in fact heard him sputtering incoherently before Mrs. Dr. P calmed him. "I'm just teasing, Dear," she reassured him. "We can discuss Josh later. For now, let's talk about this party menu Kim wrote up."

Sensing that the conversation was about to take a lengthy turn, Ron squared his shoulders and barged into the kitchen. "Mrs. Dr. P," he exclaimed, pretending not to notice Mr. Dr. Possible, "I was wondering if you could give me some advice..."


	3. Going to Bat

Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.

_John Steppenwolf: Yeah, you've read it before. It got taken down by the Powers that Be because I was a bad girl :) _

_Triaxx2: There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity :)_

_gargoylesama: Looking forward to them. _

"Hello, Ron," Mrs. Dr. Possible greeted him warmly. "I'm afraid Kim isn't here right now."

"I was counting on that, Mrs. Dr. P," Ron answered with a conspiratorial grin.

Mrs. Dr. Possible shared a look with her husband, and then fixed Ron with a gently questioning gaze.

"Well," he explained, "I'm kind of at my wits end about what to Kim for her birthday, and was hoping she might have dropped a few hints around you guys about anything in particular she had in mind."

Mr. Dr. Possible chuckled. "Oh, she's been dropping hints all right, Ronald. I've been hit with the 'puppy-dog pout' so often lately that I think I'm developing an immunity to it." His expression soured. "Unfortunately, what she wants most is something I'm not at all comfortable about giving her."

"Ah, yes, the whole 'romantic dinner with Josh' thing," he said sagely. Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible assumed the same expression, one that questioned and accused at the same time. Ron, fighting panic and embarrassment, gestured at the kitchen door.

"I, ah, couldn't help but overhear that part," he said, smiling weakly. Mr. Dr. Possible just grunted and folded his arms across his chest. Mrs. Dr. Possible seemed more accepting of Ron's excuse, as the warm smile returned to her face. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Ron, but apart from the party and the dinner with Josh afterward, Kim hasn't really said anything about presents."

Ron's face fell. Mrs. Dr. Possible smiled sympathetically and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll think of something."

Ron would never decide why he did what he did next. Even with the perspective of many years, he could never pinpoint the trigger. It wasn't anything the Possibles had said. It was more like his myriad and admittedly confused thoughts about the whole affair reached a critical mass, and in a flash of inspiration coalesced into a crystal clear course of action.

"Let her have the dinner," he said firmly. The Possibles blinked in surprise, but before they could speak Ron went on, relentlessly, "You can trust Kim." He fixed Mr. Dr. Possible with a confidant, steady gaze - far more confident than he actually felt, for part of his brain was convinced this was nothing less than a suicidal rush onto thin ice. He had visions of himself being banned from the Possible home forever, but he plunged on none-the-less. "If she says there won't be any..." he gathered his resolve and said the word..."sex, there won't be any." Soothingly, "You can trust her."

Mrs. Dr. Possible was staring at him open mouthed. Mr. Dr. Possible was scowling fiercely. "It's not Kim I don't trust," he said frostily.

Ron took a deep breath. If you had asked him just thirty seconds ago if he would EVER go to bat for Josh Mankey he would have collapsed in a fit of hysterical laughter, and even now he felt a surreal detachment, like he was listening to someone else talk.

"Josh Mankey is a perfect gentleman," he assured them. "He won't go any farther than Kim lets him, and he _will_ take 'no' for an answer."

There was a long moment of silence.

"Ron, I thought you didn't like Josh," Mrs. Dr. Possible said softly.

"I don't," Ron confirmed , "But my loathing the very sight of him doesn't change the fact that he _is_ a perfect gentleman." Ron saw that Mr. Dr. Possible was no longer scowling. Instead, he had a sort of confused look on his face, like a man completely flummoxed by the sudden, unexpected turn the conversation had taken. For her part, Mrs. Dr. Possible looked confused as well, though for what reason, Ron couldn't guess.

While he had them off balance he pressed his attack. "Tell her she can have her dinner, but that there are two conditions: first, they come right back here after they finish eating; and second, that you choose the restaurant." Ron took out his wallet and produced a business card. "This restaurant."

Mr. Dr. Possible took the card numbly. "The Ile-de-France? Ronald, that's one of the priciest places in Middleton."

"I know," Ron rejoined. "But that isn't important. What matters is that my folks know the owner, and the owner knows me. It's where I learned to cook," he added modestly. "Anyway, the owner will let me hang around in the kitchen, where I can keep an eye on things." He hesitated, "Well, I don't mean spy. I'm not going to give you detailed report on what happens. I'll just let you know when they leave the restaurant."

Mr. Dr. Possible nodded thoughtfully. "If we know when they leave we can judge for ourselves whether they made any unauthorized side trips," he mused to himself.

"But, Dear, it seems a little underhanded, doesn't it?" Mrs. Dr. Possible objected.

Mr. Dr. Possible nodded. "It is," he admitted, "And I suppose it isn't fair to Kim, but if I have that much reassurance...she can have her dinner date," he finished decisively.

"Oh, Honey, thank you!" Mrs. Dr. Possible exclaimed, giving him an exuberant hug and a grateful kiss.

"Thank _you_, Ronald," Mr. Dr. Possible said, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

"My pleasure Mr. Dr. P," Ron said, bowing graciously. Excusing himself, he hurried from the Possible home. Ducking into the side yard he found a secluded spot in some bushes and threw up.


	4. In the Restaurant

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Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.

Kim's party should have been a golden opportunity. All those girls, and him the only boy in sight. Well, Josh had been there, but he was spoken for, and so didn't really count. 'I should have been able to get at least _one_ date,' he groused to himself as he pulled his scooter into the back parking lot of the Ile-de-France. Instead, he'd more or less managed to make a complete ass of himself, and in hindsight had to admit that if his hormones hadn't been in full control of his brain, he would have fled the party out of sheer embarrassment. 'Shot down twelve times in less than two hours. That's got to be a record,' he muttered. 'Ah, maybe Kim's right, and I'm just trying too hard.' A smile crossed his face. Kim had been the highlight of the party, as far as Ron was concerned. She had accepted his rain check in lieu of a proper gift with an understanding smile. Ron didn't know if Monique had told Kim about his dilemma or not. He had no plans to ask either one of them, but he assumed Monique had. After all, it wasn't as if he'd told her to keep their conversation a secret or anything.

After concealing his scooter between a handy hedge and a convenient dumpster, Ron climbed the loading dock and entered the kitchen. The head chef greeted him cheerfully, as did his two assistants and most of the wait staff. Isabel Garin in particular, curvaceous daughter of the owner of the Ile-de-France, and frequent subject of Ron's...fantasies. She was twenty-four years old, with dark hair, lustrous eyes and big... Ron gave himself a mental slap. Isa was far too nice a person for Ron to reduce her to an object. After all, she had been gently tolerant of the crush he'd had on her since he'd entered adolescence, never once hurting his feelings, even when she was rejecting his advances.

"Hey Ron," Isa greeted him, a bright smile lighting her face. Ron smiled back, trying to ignore the hormones flooding into his bloodstream. Isa was dressed like the rest of the wait staff (well, at least the female wait staff), in a white shirt and black skirt. But the skirt was shorter than anyone else's, barely reaching mid-thigh, and the shirt had three buttons undone, giving an excellent view of... Ron slapped himself again. Isa was the owners daughter, and being groomed to take of the restaurant someday, but for now she was a wage slave like everyone else, and not above using her...assets to get a good tip out of a gentleman patron.

"Are they here yet?" he asked. Isa nodded. "They walked in a few minutes ago. Still waiting to be seated at the moment."

"Good, good. Who's got their table?"

"I'll be handling that one myself," Isa said.

Ron nodded, paused, and said, "You, uh, might want to close a few of those buttons Isa," he said quietly, blushing furiously. Isa stared at him in surprise.

"Did you just say that I'm showing off too much cleavage?" she asked. She sounded amused, and, oddly, pleased.

"I just don't want Josh to lose focus, that's all," Ron explained.

"That's so sweet," Isa said, smiling gently. Then she gave Ron a frank look, even as her fingers closed two buttons. "I was under the impression that you didn't like this Josh Mankey fellow."

"I don't. I despise him, and if I never saw him again, it would be too soon." Ron's voice went from harsh to soft. "But this isn't about Josh, it's about Kim. This is her dream date, and I want it to be perfect." He gave Isa a pleading look. "So, ah, don't flirt with him either...please?"

Isa gave him a long look, then nodded approvingly. "This is a very mature thing for you to be doing Ron," she said finally. "It shows you've got...well, I'm not sure how to put it into words, but you're a cut above most of the other guys I've ever met." She grinned at him, eyes twinkling. "In fact," she went on, her voice turning serious, "I've never encouraged the crush you have on me." Ron's face went scarlet again. "But I'll tell you what. You hit eighteen, look me up, and if I'm not in a serious relationship, we'll see about making some of those fantasies of yours come true." She winked at him, and was gone, out of the kitchen and into the dining area.

"That...wasn't...nice," Ron choked. The hormone flood was back with a vengeance. "Concentrate. Don't lose focus," he told himself. The doors to the dining area had small windows, and Ron peered through one of them. Isa was just leading Kim and Josh to their table.

"Ok," he said to himself. "Nothing serious will happen in the next five minutes, I'm sure." He swallowed, and tried to ignore the way Isa's skirt rode up as she bent forward to place the menus on the table. "I can't concentrate," he admitted to himself. He bit his lower lip. "I think," he conceded, "that a short trip to the restroom is in order."


	5. Sweet Sixteen

Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.

'Ah, I feel much better now,' Ron thought as he emerged, much relaxed, from the men's room. His thoughts flicked briefly to the website he had found, the one full of synonyms. 'I just fired the surgeon general,' he giggled to himself. His thoughts turned to Isa and her long, beautiful legs. He quickly became so entranced that he almost ran over the person standing in the middle of the short hallway that lead from the dining room to the restrooms.

"I _thought_ it was you," Kim said by way of greeting. Her arms were folded across her chest and an expression of...well, while certainly firm, was neither angry nor hurt.

Ron fought rising panic and an urge to flee. He cursed his own carelessness. In his rush to get to the rest rooms he had taken the direct route through the dining room, instead of the more circuitous route through the storeroom, on the assumption that Kim would be so entranced with Josh that she wouldn't notice what was going on around her, let alone what was happening halfway across the dining room. 'That's another bet I lose,' Ron thought bitterly. Harnessing his anger with himself, Ron quashed his panic.

"So what are you doing here, Ron?" Panic flared again, briefly, as Ron considered, then rejected, the idea of lying. He might weasel his way out of this, but the odds were against it (in no small part because Kim could read him like a book). And, he reflected, while the truth might sting in the short term, in the long term it was always the best course of action.

"I'm spying for your father."

Kim relaxed. "Oh, well that's ok the...WHAT?" She hissed the last, her expression turning incredulous, then angry.

"I'm spying for your father," he repeated, much more calmly than he felt. "It's the only way he'd let you have this particular date with Josh."

Red hair was supposed to be indicative of a fiery temper, and Kim was no exception. She looked like she was getting ready to explode. "I can't BELIEVE Dad would be so underhanded that he'd dragoon you into..." She stopped suddenly, as Ron held up a hand...

"It wasn't your Dad's idea K.P., it was mine."

"Yours?" Kim was still angry, and her anger was shifting targets; but now there was a bit of confusion mixed in with it.

"I went to your house to ask your Mom if you'd been dropping any hints about birthday presents; I was drawing a blank," Ron confessed, blushing a little. "I overheard them talking about your date. Your Dad was...uncomfortable with the idea." Kim nodded slowly. That much, it seemed, she could agree with. "So I barged in and...talked you Dad into letting you go." Kim was staring at him, her eyes wide. "He balked at first, but after I offered to 'keep an eye on things' he relented."

"And just what," Kim said, her voice flat and dangerous," are you supposed to 'keep an eye on'?"

"What time you leave the restaurant; I wouldn't agree to anything more."

"I still can't believe Dad doesn't trust me enough..." Ron raised his hand again. Kim gave him an icy glare, but said nothing.

"You could look at it that way," Ron agreed, "or," he suggested, "you could say that your Dad overcame his reservations and let you have the one thing you really wanted, at no more cost than having the world's most easily distracted spy let him know what time you left the restaurant." Ron gave Kim a steady look. "And it's not like you two weren't going to head right back to your house afterward anyway, right?"

The ice gave way to thoughtfulness. "I suppose so," Kim mused, "but still, why would you suggest something like that? I thought you didn't like Josh?"

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Why does everybody always look at it that way?" he groused. He sighed, then looked at Kim. "I didn't do this for Josh. I did it for **you**." Kim's expression softened. "Happy sixteenth birthday, Kim," he said quietly.

Kim's eyes began to glisten, and her lower lip started to tremble. Suddenly she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, embracing him fiercely. Ron's arms went around her in a gentle hug. She was shaking, and though her face was buried in his chest, Ron knew that she was crying.

After a few moments Kim looked up at him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but Ron knew somehow that they were happy tears. Wordlessly, he produced a handkerchief. Kim accepted it with a smile. She wiped away the tears, then blew her nose. As Ron tucked the kerchief back into his pocket, Kim laid a hand on his cheek.

"Ron, this is the best birthday present anyone has ever given me. Thank you." With that, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Ron's face flamed scarlet, for Kim hadn't kissed him on the cheek, but directly on the lips. There wasn't anything to do but return it, so he did. After a few moments they pulled back. "Well," Ron said, a little awkwardly, "I'm glad you liked it. Now, I think your date might be starting to wonder what's keeping you. I'd hate for him to get the wrong idea," he added with a sly smile. It was Kim's turn to blush. "I suppose he is," she stammered, but she smiled at him and gave him another quick kiss, thankfully on the cheek this time. She started back toward the dining room, paused, and turned back. "You're the best," she mouthed silently. She gave him another fond smile, and was gone.

Ron leaned against the hallway wall and smiled. He didn't try to analyze what had happened, just basked in the glow of Kim's happiness. "Ron old boy, I think you hit that one out of the ballpark," he congratulated himself. He heard footsteps. 'Time to get back to the kitchen,' he said to himself. He ducked through a door labeled 'Staff Only' into the restaurant's storeroom. His thoughts turned to a certain long-legged, buxom brunette. "I have to pay her back for that 'make my fantasies come true' crack," Ron resolved, a wicked grin crossing his face. "I wonder how she'll react when I tell her the age of consent in this state is sixteen."


End file.
